On the Side
by Phanfan925
Summary: Drabbles, Oneshots, and AUs from within the universe of "The Price of Wisdom" APH/HP Xover. Lots of terrible humour. Not all that entertaining. Beware.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: A collection of drabbles, oneshots, and AUs from my Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover "The Price of Wisdom". Mostly centered around things that happened behind the scenes, or things that COULD have happened. Some are made for humour purposes, and others are more serious. Updates are sporadic and dependant on both reviews and my own whims. Don't expect the same level of quality as TPoW.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Axis Powers Hetalia. I did write both this and The Price of Wisdom, though.**

**For our first collection, we have some CRACK! drabbles. Not meant to be taken seriously. Just for fun! ;D**

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><p><strong>#1<strong>

**The Albino**

**Prompt: Multiple reviews from chapter 16-17 of the fic that said that Kuma sounded like he was describing Prussia. Since then, this hasn't left my head... Excuse the similarity from the original scenes, but there is a critical deviation later on XDD.**

**Warning: Excessive, _slightly_ OOC yelling from England...**

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><p>"What's-his-name got himself in a tight spot."<p>

England's eyebrows cast dark, worried shadows over his eyes. He leaned towards the near-collapsed bear-cub, demanding that it expound upon what it had told him. This was troublesome. Was the bear's owner in danger?

"Do you mean Matthew? What's happened, then?"

Kumajiro snuffed, "Whoever-that-guy-is with the creepy red eyes is after you... By the way, who _are _you?"

Arthur Kirkland's mind stopped working, and his heart was petrified in his chest. No... it couldn't be... _Dear God. _

"...You're not making any sense," he said nervously, in denial. Tons of people had red eyes... didn't they? "Who has red eyes? Who's "after me"? And you still haven't told me where Matthew is."

The bear growled and grumbled, but spoke some more, nonetheless. "I don't know his name. He looks like he never saw a day of sunlight. Freak."

_...Red eyes..._ _pale skin..._

_No. This is impossible. And yet... who else could it be?_

England screamed, shaking his fist at the sky. "PRUSSIA! DAMN YOU!" His voice echoed throughout the castle. In fact, England's vocals carried and travelled so far that they succeeded in scaring birds off trees from outside.

Kumajiro flinched, putting his paws over his ears as he watched the nation rage and rant. The bear's anxiety grew with every word that flew forth from England's lips. He was scaring him...

"I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! GILBERT! OF COURSE! WHO _KNOWS_ WHAT HE'S DOING TO MY SWEET BABY! HE BETTER NOT PUT A _FINGER_ ON HIM! I'LL GUT HIM LIKE A PIG! I'LL BLEED HIM OUT UNTIL EUROPE IS RUNNING RED!"

"Umm..." the polar bear tentatively spoke up, afraid to say _anything _at this point. Interference could prove fatal, at this point.

Students that were coming around the corner were shocked into silence. Their Professor had lost their mind, totally and utterly. He was a mad man. And lord, was he _loud..._

"HIS ARSE WILL STING SO HARD HE'LL FEEL IT FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER CENTURY-"

"Ehhh..." Kuma shifted, feeling an uncharacteristic bout of sympathy stir inside him at the thought of what would happen to Prussia if he didn't clear this up, and _soon_.

"THEY'LL HAVE TO CALL IT THE BAD-TOUCH _**DUO **_FROM NOW ON WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH HIM! I SUPPOSE THIS PERSON HAD WHITE HAIR TOO?! THAT-"

"_Actually_, he was bald," intervened Kuma in a matter-of-fact-voice.

England's sudden temper and hysterics immediately died down, like a wisp of flame being blown out by a breath of air.

"...Oh."

No one did or said anything, but a student's cough broke through the tangible silence.

"O-oh... so... OH, you mean THAT bloke, Voldemort. Phew, thank goodness. HIM I can handle." England breathed a relieved and shaky laugh. All was right in the world, once again...

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><p><strong>#2<strong>

**Shite **

**Prompt: From my head. What if Iggy's brother's randomly showed up at Hogwarts and started raging at Umbridge? You can never get enough Umbridge bashing, my friends.**

**Warning: Language**

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><p>When England's brothers came to visit him out-of-the-blue, England had expected the worst. He expected nothing short of absolute chaos. Hogwarts would be turned upside down. A hell-on-earth. He was sure of it. And it didn't help that Umbridge wouldn't stop nagging... and nagging... all day long. There was no escape from her, <em>or <em>his brothers...

"Delightful" Dolores was with him now, chattering away about how he should "really reconsider the material" that he was teaching, if he wanted to "have any chance of employment, in the future." England hated how much power the Ministry-woman had... it was irritating. It rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he refused to lose his head. He was a gentleman, after all...

Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland hovered at England's shoulders, giving Umbridge incredulous looks, as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing. Northern Ireland looked at England, mouthing, _'is she for real?'_

England mouthed back, _'guess what I have to deal with everyday...'_

"-In conclusion," said Umbridge, her flapping mouth synonymous with a croaking toad. "If you don't start teaching historical subjects that are up to the Ministry's standards, I may be forced to dock your pay, and even terminate your employment here at Hogwarts." She sat there, smugly adjusting a pink bracelet on her wrist that would've looked good on _any_ other female.

England's face went red, and not just any shade of red. A deep, dangerous scarlet... He could hear someone grinding their teeth with fervour, likely Wales. Everything fell silent... the calm before the storm. The pause before the volcano's massive and explosive eruption.

"...This... is. SHITE!" screamed Scotland.

"_SHITE_!" chimed in Ireland and Wales.

"WHAT FUCKERY IS THIS?"

"BULLSHITE!"

"I SECOND THAT!"

"AMEN."

"ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCK HIM OVER OR SOMETHING?"

"'MIGHT AS WELL GET SOME FUCKING CONDOMS IF YOU'RE GOING TO FUCK HIM OVER!"

"HERE, LAY DOWN, ARTHUR. MIGHT AS WELL BE IN THE RIGHT POSITION IF SHE'S GOING TO FUCK YOU OVER LIKE THIS!"

"IN A LITERARY SENSE, OF COURSE."

"PULL DOWN THE PANTS, ARTHUR. THIS BITCH IS SERIOUS! MIGHT AS WELL ACCOMODATE HER!"

"CUN-!"

They may have been trying to defend him, but England had never felt more embarrassed in his life...

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Dear me. Woe is me. What have I done... Whenever I am stuck with writer's block on TPoW, or just plain bored, I will write some drabbles/oneshots from the same universe and put them here. 'Might put some Ukranada (*What I like to label Ukraine/Canada. Ucran or Ukran for short) fluff in here at one point. **

**Review, I guess... X'DD**

**You can request things too, of course. But no guarantees. **

**On another note, the next actual chapter of The Price of Wisdom is almost done. Happy Halloween's Eve folks! :'D **


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: A collection of drabbles, oneshots, and AUs from my Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover "The Price of Wisdom". Mostly centered around things that happened behind the scenes, or things that COULD have happened. Some are made for humour purposes, and others are more serious. Updates are sporadic and dependant on both reviews and my own whims. Don't expect the same level of quality as TPoW.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Axis Powers Hetalia. I did write both this and The Price of Wisdom, though.**

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><p><strong>Back again with some more short drabbles because I'm bored and need a break from the main time-line of The Price of Wisdom. <strong>

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><p><strong>#3<strong>

**Meow**

**Prompt: Cats. Why couldn't it be dogs? Dogs are better in _almost_ every way. But no. Cats.**

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><p>Ever the one to be late to retire and late to rise, Brandee the cat stretched out on the human's bed and arched her spine with a muffled <em>m'row <em>to greet the morning. Her master had already left, leaving behind only a fading indent in the bed, outlining where his weight had once rested throughout the hours of the night. She touched this spot once with her dainty, pink nose, feeling his fleeting warmth and inhaling his familiar scent of tea-leaves and forest-smells. No doubt he was in the office in the next room over, trying to get an early start on finalising preparations for a lesson...

Automatically, she looked around for the ball of white fluff that had been the newest addition to the bed. But her companion, the white bear-cub, was no where to be seen. If it was within the nature of felines to sigh out loud, Brandee most certainly would've indulged at this moment. The comfort of night had temporarily washed away her memories, and she had forgotten that he had left just yesterday.

During the course of the bear's stay, the cat had obtained a hidden inkling that the cub was not to be trifled with. If she prodded it too much, it might just snap her neck, or eat her up. Or both, for that matter. Despite all this, she had enjoyed his company.

She sat down on her haunches and lifted a leg, licking it clean with her course tongue. The calico fur that she was so very vain of was flattened (for a time; fluff could not be contained), and smoothed by the merciless lashings of her tongue, and once that spot was satisfactorily groomed, she moved on to the next patch that required attention. While in the middle of this domestic and somehow soothing task, she engrossed herself in her primitive animal thoughts, which were perhaps simpler than human cogitations, but were still pure and valid.

Humans were swell and fine, and she deeply adored the blond-haired man that cared for her very dearly, but sometimes she longed for more animal interactions. When she had been a kit, she had always had that sort of socialisation in her life, while constantly at the side of her mother and surrounded by various mewling siblings. Now, she only had her human, and for a brief and blissful time, she'd also had that soft, small bear.

But now he was gone.

Cats were not ones to be overtly nostalgic or melancholic, or at least not for very long, so Brandee ceased her grooming and got to her paws, leaping down to find her human. She was very much in the mood for a good stroking, and sharpening her claws on the ends of the pelts, "pants", he wore, would entertain her for a time...

Her contemplations turned to the human itself as he came into view, stooped over the desk. The human had always reminded her of a cat. Somehow, he'd struck her as feline, in both personality and in action. Brandee remained convinced that this strange ape would've made a swell house cat, or perhaps, even one of the greater cats. A tiger, or a lion, perhaps. Some wild beast that was both regal as much as it was savage. She did not necessarily believe in "souls" being born into the wrong species, or even in the existence of a "soul", (such thoughts were above even her understanding), but a feline body would've certainly done her master justice...

"_M'rrow?_" She used the tone she always did when she wanted attention from him. It was plaintive, and a cry to, _"notice me! Love me, slave!"_

"_Morning_," her pet replied in that strange tongue that she couldn't quite grasp or comprehend, lifting his head and regarding her once.

Brandee padded over with a friendly purr, ready to be caressing and cuddled. With or without the bear cub (who she would nevertheless always miss), she would survive just fine, and life would be swell, so long as she was with this wonderful man that was her master.

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><p><strong>#4<strong>

**In Need of Assistance**

**Prompt: ****Some people wanted more details on Alfred's visit to Scot's house (mentioned in chapter 27 I believe?). Welp. Here's an entire scene! (Ok, not an entire scene. A sliver of a scene. 'Can definitely be considered cannon to the fic~)**

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><p>"...HELP! HOLY SHIT, I'M TOO YOUNG."<p>

Scot roused himself from bed like a sprung board, groaning, and instantly sunk back into the blessed blankets. He was tired as hell, and it was a struggle to stay awake for more than a few moments with his body so drained. The shrieks that had initially woken him were silent for a blessed 3.8 seconds, but suddenly struck up again with a frightening amount of fervour, this time accompanied by the barks and howls of Scot's own hounds and sheepdogs.

_**"KEEP YOUR TEETH AWAY FROM THIS SHIRT. IT'S STAR WARS VINTAGE- OW! HARRISON FUCKING FORD SIGNED IT YOU BITCHES. SCOT! SCOOOTTT!"**_

Growling like a disturbed badger, Scotland tore himself away from the bed at last and staggered with a vengeance out of his modest home. Whoever the hell had tripped his magical traps could expect either a castration, or, if he was feeling merciful, a well-placed kick in the genitalia.

His frustration only mounted at seeing the bright, sheepish face of the American hanging upside down from one of Scot's blackthorn trees, overtop his well-cared-for garden and flowerbed of thistles. A dozen dogs, mostly various breeds of collie, were congregated around the dangling American, yapping their muzzles off and leaping to snap at him. Occasionally, a lucky one would latch their jaws around his wrist, arm, or clothing, amidst Alfred's profanity-filled yelps of pain.

"Ouch- Scot! Alistair! There you are, buddy-friend-pal-dude! PLEASE, CALL THEM OFF?!"

"We are not friends."

"-_PLEASE-_"

"-I hate you-"

"P-PLE-EAS-SEEEE," Alfred practically sobbed.

"Why the ruddy hell should I?!"

"_I'LL BUY YOU SCOTCH, SO MUCH SCOTCH._"

"I don't want any of your** SHITEY AMERICAN SCOTCH**!"

"I'LL BUY IT NATIVE, I PROMISE, JUST-"

Cutting him off, Scot sighed and whistled shrilly, calling the dogs back to him at least. The beasts had suddenly reverted from their vicious states into friendly, peaceful pups, all hostility instantly washed away at the sight of their owner. They swirled around him with excited yips and wagging tails, expecting some form of reward for their hard, well-done work. For the moment, Scot ignored them and turned his full gaze on the relieved country that still swung suspended from the tree, like an ill-placed Christmas ornament of considerable ugliness.

"I'll expect that scotch in a barrel. At least fifty litres. You disturbed my sleep, and damn it, I need it."

"K...What the fuck is a litre?"

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Blah. New batch will come whenever I feel like it, as work is mainly being done on the newest chap of TpoW ;w; This was just to get me back in a writing mood with some miniature scene practice. Writing block really bites guys ughh, so sorry these aren't all that interesting.  
><strong>

**Review? Please? *o***


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